Viva la Deva!

On Transitions

It’s almost 3:00 a.m. on Saturday March 11, 2017 and I just learned of Indianapolis’ Mari Evans passing away via fellow artist Mizinga.

A wave of emotion struck enough to invoke me going to the office after my trip to the bathroom instead of returning to the warm comfort of bed.

Just in the past week (my birthday was March 5th) I proclaimed that I would give myself the gift of writing a book for this 30th cycle of living and since had proudly written four articles to begin the process.

I was immediately taken back in my head to conversations I imagine going on in my great-grandmothers kitchen as I waited around for liver, rice, gravy and my big biscuit. Those conversations that seemed so lively and exciting to a child who couldn’t do anything but listen and not interrupt. In rooms of adults holding several side conversations, it seemed to be common knowledge that when babies were close to being born, someone was close to death. One transitioning into the other, the flame of life left ever flickering by the souls coming and going past them.

My own birth they say came on the heels of the passing of Big Mama late in the year of 1986, my twice great grandmother.

This perception of life and death as a transfer, an exchange of sorts ordained and orchestrated by the whole of nature has always resonated and stuck with me. Watching the cycles in my adult life has not shifted this perspective at all.

The shifting of Responsibility

It is arguable that the Blacks Arts Movement of the 70’s was inspired on the very heels of Mari Evans. Her first book, almost fifty years removed, I am A Black Woman is still one lending shape to attitudes that fuel movements like BLACK LIVES MATTER decades later. To create such profound, timeless, yet relevant work I believe is the desire of any one who takes the time to flesh out the contents of a beautiful mind.

And I believe that if we are to take anything from this larger than life woman, it should be the reminder of what it really means to be a most profound artist. So much beauty sprung from the life of Evans because she had no problem acknowledging and putting herself in the bullshit by doing her part to make a difference.

Let this be the legacy remembered by those who pick up the torch to light the way around us. Be it in writing or reflecting the times otherwise, that all freedom, and all progress comes with it the responsibility to maintain it.

Evans had a life that allowed her to do the work that she was passionate about. Her works was on outpouring of her love, her disgust, her anguish, her strength for her people exhibited through her activism and roles in civil rights. We are most grateful to have been able to bask in a light that was she. May she rest and lend her power in the realm of the ancestors.

 We will always look to her to be renewed...

If There Be Sorrow

If there be sorrow

Let it be

For things undone…

Undreamed

Unrealized

Unattained

To these add one;

Love withheld…

…Restrained

--Mari Evans

Yesterday I was fortunate to gather with beautiful spirits to celebrate mid way through the Kwanzaa celebration. We gathered for the lighting of the third candle and pitch in style dinner at the Mawusi house.

Black eyed peas with sweet potatoes and carrots (that I want the recipe to it was so delicious), stewed veggies over quinoa  and so many other colorful MEATLESS dishes inspired me to push more excitedly into my goals for 2017. All of which center around regaining control of my family via making better food choices and being better organized. (i.e couponing, meal planning, pre-cooking meals etc.)

With my first two weeks of the new year already "pre-planned" having meal ideas and recipes accounted for, I'd go to my newly created arsenal of vegan recipes for my pitch in dish.

What was to be a chicken substitute for the transitioning healthy eating savant would be my side dish.

A simple dish requiring few ingredients-- Buffalo Cauliflower.

Try it out and let me know your thoughts!

Ingredients

1 head Cauliflower

1/2 c. Spelt/Garbanzo/All purpose flour

1/2 t.Salt

1/2 t.Pepper

1/2 t.Garlic Powder

1/2 c approved butter or margarine

1 c. hot sauce

olive oil

water as needed

1. Break the florets of washed and dried cauliflower heads.

2. In a bowl large enough to fit the cauliflower, mix flour with seasons and add water until you get to a nice thin batter consistency.

3. Heat over to 425. Coat cauliflower very well in the batter. Single layer on a oiled baking sheet and bake 15-20 minutes.

4. While cauliflower is roasting, combine melted butter or margarine with the hot sauce.

5. Remove cauliflower from oven and return back to a bowl.

Cover florets in hot sauce mixture making sure to blend well until each piece is perfectly coated.

6. Return to baking sheet, subsequently the oven for 15 -20 more minutes!

7. Serve with celery or a house ranch dressing like you would boneless chicken wings!

Hey, it doesn't taste all to much like chicken...but it will definitely satisfy the need!

Be full! Be happy! Be HEALTHY!

Umoja! (Unity)

Greetings on this first day of Kwanzaa! The city of Indianapolis is preparing for its 50th annual kick off to the celebration with the Umoja Village Community celebration this afternoon at the Fay Biccard Glick Neighborhood Center.

 What better way to kick off a day of unity then to learn how to turn a piece of yarn or fabric into a beautiful textile by joining them through WEAVING!

Sponsored by Nubian Naturals Jewelry & Healing & Amore Arts, we welcome all to stop by and try your hand at something new!

Younger children will get to practice the skill while tuning up on fine motor skills at stations designed for 3-4  young children to work together at a time.

Older children and adults will work around a more complex WARP. (We'll also learn some weaving basics, like terminology :)

Our stations will be designed for all ages to try their hand at the art of weaving!

Especially for Kwanzaa, we will have MAKE & TAKE weaving projects with everything you'll need to practice at home for purchase at only $2.99!

The Umoja Village is one that I look forward to every year! The electric crowd, the cultural dance and vendors make this one of the most entertaining festivals to be found in the city.

Join us from 3pm until 9pm today!

Be sure to stop by and say Hi!

In honor of Earth Day just yesterday, I wanted to share a simple project that will get you in the spirit of conserving and thinking creatively about what we can do to work in harmony with our Mother Nature.

The project is simple and uses materials easily available to you. Remember that we want to be as resourceful as possible.  

You will need a tissue cardboard tube for each feeder, string or cord, scissors, a yarn needle (or something to pierce holes), peanut butter, cheerios and birdseeds.

We did two variations of birdfeeder. The first and most simple just requires you to pierce a hole through the top of one of the recycled tubes and string your cording through. After tying a knot to secure the loop, coat the tube in peanut butter. Roll the coated tube in the seeds and hang it out for our birdy friends!

The second feeder is great for older children as it has more steps and requires finer hand eye coordination. Still working with a single tube, first flatten it and insert 5 nicely spaced holes. Make sure you don't put holes to close to the edges. These will be the center of the strips you cut next. Once you have your strips cut, prepare your cord by tying off 3 or 4 cheerios to the end of the string.

Now take your cardboard strips and paint them with peanut butter! This can get kinda messy! Once nicely coated roll them in the bird seed. String one side of the cardboard onto your string. Add 4 or 5 cheerios and then string through the other side of the strip. Add more cheerios to create a pattern that is appealing to your preference and then repeat the process until you've used all five of your strips. Knot a loop at the end and then hang from your favorite bird watching spot!

Have fun!!!

Often we hear of the disparities in the number of black women in science. While this is true, it is not due to a lack in interest.

I have hobbies that connect me to botany, geology and mycology. Things that I’d study independently, I looked to connect with others here in Indiana within the last two years to “next level” my understanding. My excitement and eagerness to learn unfortunately has more often than not, been greeted with blatant instances and occurrences of racism.

 My most recent occurrence just March 26th.

A mushroom certification workshop. I had in mind already what to expect, I’d likely be the only black girl in the room. Nothing I hadn’t already gained the internal fortitude to handle, this was becoming normal as I began to bring credentialing to these interest of mines. Typically I’d get the icy stares or those suffering black invisibility syndrome , you know, where no one makes eye contact or just refuses to look in your direction because ignoring you will theoretically make you disappear.

I arrived to a full parking lot at our meeting location in the fairgrounds. The locked building created several pockets of people standing around waiting and hanging around their cars. I hung out in my car until I saw the doors about to be unlocked. About 50 people shuffled into the building and up the stairs to yet another set of locked doors. I meandered the hallways that included the conservation society and the Purdue extension office before settling on a wall near the exit and staircase. I looked to make eye contact and greet those in my vicinity to no avail. Two men who came together seem to have a “pack” energy. They stood maybe 10 feet in front of me in the moderately congested hallway. Clearly I could see them glance, whisper and smirk like fourteen year old children despite being men possibly in their forties or fifties. I returned their side eyes with clever smirks and suggestive body language taunts of my own. Subtle, composed, with the poise of a mother goddess with a growing impatience looking upon her defiant children, who plot, unbeknownst to her awareness.

This exchange of dominance would persist. Finally after never getting the door unlocked, we made our way into the only other available space in the building, a cafeteria. We were led to more stairs, where the two would go up ahead of me. One being the apparent “gentleman”, decided to show his white brothers and sisters their due respect and chivalry, only to attempt to further show his contempt towards me. He released possession of his doorman ship at my arrival, hoping that I’d be shut out. I laid not a hand to the door. Able to get in before it closed, I was sure to thank him. Which to my pleasure received his down turned brow and furrowed lip at his failed attempts at embarrassment.

Several round tables. Maybe six or so seats each table. I take a deep breath and head for a table of women, just two at that time, subconsciously seeking to maybe find some refuge and comfort ability with the feminine energy. “Hey, how are you ladies?” I asked as I pulled out my chair and took my seat. A younger woman, maybe early 20’s would engage me, politely acknowledging that I’d just said something. The older lady next to her said absolutely nothing and looked as though I had no place saying anything to her. The table would fill with more crumpled faces, another female and two men of whom I will note, one with locs that didn’t seem to connect him at all to a higher level of not being an unwelcoming blue eyed asshole. A subtle telling of not alliance and an awareness of the culture but just the consumption of. I created my bubble and made it through the first part of the workshop. Before our break we would participate in a hand washing experiment using UV lotion. As the tables were released to wash their hands. One of the men would stare at me eye to eye from the time he stood up until out of the door. I thought to myself how pathetic these men were and at my turn to leave to room would do so fearlessly but cautiously. During the break that would come, I’d communicate all that I’d been noticing and perceiving. Returning from break I noticed our table a person short. An older man who was one of the last to enter when we had come into the room initially, having slim pickings on seats grabbed a chair at our table, not without showing his discontent of course. He would sit about two feet removed from the actual table utilizing his lap and notebook instead. I’d notice this but not think twice about it until I saw that at first opportunity he cut clear across the room. There was one gentleman that engaged me during the four and a half-hour certification. He asked if I’d been mushroom hunting long and told me of his many adventures growing up doing so. I welcomed this small talk and was slightly relieved that all hope for humanity was not dead after all. A little glimmer of light was witnessed even though possibly reflecting from fools gold. Class would end with a test making for a staggered release. I’d finish to notice all my “friends” had already gone.

I made my way down the two levels of stairs and out the sliding doors to see none other than who?!

None other than my knight in the red and black Pelle coat with the shining buttons! He await me with his laid back demeanor and a mean ass mug for every person that came out of that building. Him already letting on that he had perceived my problem through a stare down battle of his own that ensued. The two men were actually still in the lot, sitting in their SUV. It wasn’t until I’d come out and connected with this big strong man, who leaning against my car stepped forward in true alpha male form, to kiss me that the two would drive off. I was then escorted home. Full of many feelings, but the final and most important I suppose still being love.

Before this, at a rock and mineral show, I asked a vendor about the stone Celestine. “It takes you to other dimensions, like out the door”, was his response. I wanted to stab a quart point thru his throat. At both instances, what in hindsight I can say I recognized, was that in these battles, it was my humanity at stake. The warmth of the world is created by us. We have the morals and the manners. The empathy and intelligence. We cannot let the lowliest of receptive beast dictate our actions. Being composed, and strategic is our proactive resolution to all off our issues.

As we proceed to break through the barriers that have been placed before us, I remind you, to in fact serve as a reminder to self to not be intimidated, maintain your humanity, to stand strong and solid in your pursuits and beliefs, and to never quit despite all the locked doors you are sure to come across…

Caught in a negative feedback loop, where my own thoughts create my chains.

I could pick out things to point the finger at, but my own censoring (or lack thereof) might really be what's to blame.

Cognitively stressed, emotionally depressed from the continued destructive stimulus.

My own anxiety I manifest... I've been in this place before.

How did I find my way back here? I told myself no more.

This balance seems elusive--between the world in my head and the world that really be.

The fight to conquer my dreams or my current reality...

How did me inspiring you, end in me devouring me?

Emotions spent so much so that I fell from my own grace.

Fighting for my mind, and the clarity of the space.

Back to center, I go.  

Where I maintain my illusion of control.